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An urge to go home hits so hard it’s almost overwhelming. My breath trembles as I deal with this need to leave. To return to normal.
But why?
Why indeed. It’s not like my ‘normal’ is a life worth living. I barely exist and have forced every other person to be so distant that I could vanish and I don’t think anyone would notice for a long time.
It feels like I’m standing at some kind of a weird metaphorical crossroads. The one path is comfortably familiar, if lonely and dull. The other, through this airlock door, is an utter unknown. Do I go through the door and find out what happens next?
The resounding thought in my head is to go home. Forget this insanity. I owe an apology, not an adventure outside. I may have acted badly, but this isn’t bad, this is insane.
As one foot begins sliding to the side of its own accord I hit the panel on the airlock and it cycles open. Stopping my betraying foot, I step through.
10
KAI
My chest is almost too tight to take in fresh air as I wait for the airlock to cycle. The whoosh of inside air being sucked out and replaced by outside air buffets my eardrums. As it does the heat rises and a sheen of sweat covers my body.
When the outside door opens one sun is below the horizon and the bigger one is dipping low making it the coolest it is likely to be here in this desert hell. It’s pretty, but that’s not what takes the little bit of air in my lungs away.
There is a path outlined from the doorway into the desert created by small candles. Gathering my senses I step through the door and it cycles closed. I look all around but no one else is out here except me. Off in the distance to my right is the outline of the graveyard and further past that is the vain attempts at building a wall, but no living person I can see.
“Hello?” I call, my voice trembling.
No answer. I do the only sensible thing I can think of, ignoring the logical part of my brain demanding I run back into the ship and hide, I follow the path of candles.
The shadows thicken as I follow them off the hard fused sand that is around the crashed ship and out onto the loose, rolling dunes. When I crest the first dune once again my breath is taken away. A blanket is spread out on the sand below, laden with food. Standing next to it is Provyd with his head bowed hands clasped in front of himself.
“Kai,” he says, motioning to the picnic. “For you.”
“Provyd, you…” You what? Shouldn’t have? Why? You what exactly Kai? I don’t have the words because I don’t know what to say or think at this point. It’s nice. Too nice. More than I deserve by far. “This is nice.”
Lame. Nice. Wow, way to be effusive Kai. Way to make up for being such a bitch before too. Well done. Sheesh.
“You like?” he asks.
“Uh, yeah,” I say, slowly walking closer. My feet sink into the loose sand with each step. I stop a few yards away, unsure if I should come closer or not. “Look. I want to say, uhm, I’m sorry Provyd. I am, I should never have yelled at you.”
“You sorry?” he asks, shaking his head. “You no do wrong.”
“I did,” I say, pressure building behind my eyes. “Believe me. You were being nice, I think anyway, and even if not I should not have acted like that.”
He is frowning deeply then shakes his head as he sighs heavily.
“Kai hurting?”
“Hurting?” I ask, one hand drifting to my scarred face. “I mean, yeah it always hurts, but that’s no excuse.”
“Ah, come,” he says, motioning me towards the blanket. He walks over to a basket and crouches next to it. He looks over his shoulder and sees I haven’t come any closer so he motions again. “Come. Please. Safe. Come.”
He returns his attention to the basket. I frown not wanting to go to him like this but then I do too. He doesn’t seem to see my scars. Not like everyone else does. Not like I do. He is just… nice. Kind. Caring.
And sexy. That’s the real problem. He is making me feel things, awakening those old instincts, those old needs.
And those I don’t need or want anymore. No one wants to couple with the monster of the ship, that’s for damn sure. No better to keep those buried deep. But something about him pulls me forward, overriding good sense. I pause when I first step onto the blanket and wait.
“Ah!” he exclaims and I can’t keep myself from jumping. “It have. Here.” He turns around and he has a jar in one hand and one of the epis leaves in the other. He sees me standing with the self-imposed distance between us and smiles. “I come?”
“Uh, okay,” I say, torn apart between my desire for him to be close and my instinct to say no, keep your distance.
